PORTRAIT OF A RESTAURATEUR
By Anne Willan

Burgundy, France. François-Pierre Lobies has always dreamed of being a restaurateur. As he grew up, he looked across the village square to Les Bons Enfants (The Good Children) which had been an auberge for at least two centuries. He promised himself he would open his own restaurant when he was 50. Ten more years were needed but now he has done it. Now Monsieur Lobies is the proprietor of a 40-cover restaurant, a bistro with bar and a couple of dozen seats, all in a choice location opposite the Mairie (City Hall) in the shadow of a magnificent 14^th century church in one of the forgotten scenic villages of northern Burgundy.  (The name, The Good Children, comes from a hostel run by the guild of Compagnons who taught (and still teach) artisan apprentices thoughout France.)

The kitchen is masterminded by his son Jérémie. “Food has always held a big place in our family” smiles his father. The menu is inspired by dishes such as cod in truffled pumpkin broth with smothered leeks, and a Burgundian Charolais beef steak, with foie gras,  port wine sauce and a slice of the savory spiced “cake” that is so chic right now.  The warm cream of onion soup served in a glass on a mousse flavored with toasted dark breadcrumbs is memorable, the one warm and lightly frothy, the other chilled and almost meaty in taste.

Jérémie moonlights from his real job as sous-chef for Joel Rebuchon, one of the two or three leading chefs in Paris, but he will never move to the Les Bons Enfants full time. So an experienced Japanese chef, Keigo Kimura, who has trained in France, anchors the kitchen “Jérémie and I enjoy working together and we want to preserve that relationship”, says his father. Out front, François-Pierre Lobies is very much in charge. As host, his manner is deceptively mild, friendly but not effusive. But the eyes behind the pebble glasses are shrewd.

When the restaurant opened in April 2007, reactions were mixed. A happy core of regular customers formed at once and the local newspaper printed a favorable review. Rivals watched with interest: “an adventurer”, sniffed one chef from a nearby temple of gastronomy. The summer passed and then bookings turned patchy, crowded one day, empty the next (the distraction of the world rugby cup was one culprit). Monsieur Lobies is philosophical. “We’ll do better”, he says, “we’re already doing quite well and we have plenty of time”.

The business plan includes opening just five bedrooms overlooking the little courtyard off the square. A gourmet store has long been lacking in the area, so what was a garage next door to the bistro will become an épicerie, selling local specialties such as honey spice bread, artisan preserves made by friends, regional wines (Chablis is just 40 miles away), and a few dishes of the day to take out. Not all Monsieur Lobies’ ideas are successful. For a while he tried American-style brunch with bacon and eggs and English lamb curry side by side with croissants and crème brûlée for an astonishingly low price, but it did not fly.

Modest pricing has been key in the bistro. Here for $25 you can enjoy a three-course lunch that might include crispy pig’s foot with salad, flank steak with a wine and shallot sauce, followed by a choice of cheese or a half dozen desserts including a luscious crême brûlée or profiteroles with chocolate sauce.

When François-Pierre was growing up after World War II, he was a bit of a maverick with communist leanings and a love of books (his father was a publisher). He crossed the Sahara solo on a bike, a feat in itself. Back home he began printing catalogs for auction houses, and it can be no accident that his first successful book was a facsimile edition of a 200-year-old culinary classic, L’Almanac des Gourmands, with special notes in the margin by the reigning Parisian restaurant critic Robert Courtine. Meanwhile the Bons Enfants, which had been known for its simple country cooking, went through 8 owners, ending as a pizzeria.

François-Pierre finally built up enough capital (he thought) for the big adventure and bought the property. Three years were spent renovating the roof, the floors, everything except the walls of the ancient structure, part of which dates back to the 15^th century. The cost crept from $750,000 to well over $1.5 million. The result is simple, welcoming, and feels as if the building with its stone floors, cobbled driveway, and exposed oak beams had always been that way. “Charm, but no luxury, I want people to feel at home”, is how Monsieur Lobies puts it.

I feel François-Pierre is a friend. “We should have met before”, he says, and how could I have missed meeting him when he has lived two miles from my door for 25 years? Now we talk food shop, the problems of keeping good staff in the countryside, the erratic behaviour of the fish purveyor with the best fish in the department, who arrives early or late, never on time. We revel in the raw milk cheeses that abound in our little pays, our micro-region perhaps 30 miles wide. I show him a treasure, a business directory of 1824 for the village lists the auberge of Les Bons Enfants. “Ah, that’s the first written mention I have found” he exclaims, “Quelle bonheur!”

If you are traveling in northern Burgundy, don’t miss this rising star just 100 miles from Paris. The Bons Enfants bids fair to be what all Francophiles seek, offering peace, comfort, an undemanding welcome, and intriguingly good food.

Les Bons Enfants Hotel Restaurant, 4 place de la Mairie, Saint Julien du Sault. +33 (0) 3.86.91.17.38, bonsenfants@orange.fr

© 2007, Anne Willan

Creme Catalane

Lemon, Cinnamon and Fennel Seed Custard

This version of crème brûlée is spiced with fennel seed, cinnamon and citrus zest. To create the caramel topping, run to your nearest hardware store for a portable blowtorch, mandatory equipment in the kitchen of all trendy chefs. The custard can be made and chilled for up to 24 hours, but the sugar coating should be added at the last minute so it remains crisp.  

Serves 8.

• 1 lemon

• 1 orange

• 1 tsp fennel seeds

• 1 quart milk

• 1 cinnamon stick

• 2 eggs

• 4 egg yolks

• 3 tablespoons flour

• 3 tablespoons cornstarch

• 2 tablespoons plus 3/4 cup light brown sugar, divided
   

• 1 1/2-quart shallow baking dish, or 8 individual dishes; blow-torch

1. Pare zest from lemon and orange. Crack fennel seeds in a plastic bag with a rolling pin. Put milk in a saucepan and bring it just to a boil. Add zests, fennel seeds and cinnamon stick, cover and leave over very low heat to infuse for 15 minutes. Meanwhile, whisk eggs and yolks together with the 2 tablespoons brown sugar until thick and light, about 2 minutes, then whisk in flour and cornstarch.
    

2. Strain milk into egg mixture, stirring with a whisk until smooth. Return it to the pan and bring it to a boil, whisking constantly. If lumps form as custard thickens, take pan from heat at once and whisk until custard is smooth. Simmer custard gently, whisking constantly, until it softens slightly (indicating flour is completely cooked), 2-3 minutes. Work custard through a strainer into the baking dish – it should form a 1-inch layer (3/4-inch for individual dishes). Let cool uncovered to room temperature, then cover and chill until cold, at least 1 hour and up to 1 day. 
     

3. To finish, just before serving, sprinkle brown sugar with your fingers over top of custard and spread it evenly. Hold lighted blowtorch several inches from custard and heat sugar until bubbling and crispy (it will not form the hard topping of traditional crème brûlée). Serve immediately.

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